The SEAL's Christmas Twins Page 15

  “What happened to the sun?” He tucked his sunglasses into his coat pocket. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to snow till tonight?”

  “I say bring it on. It’ll create an even more festive mood.”

  “You do know you sound like a lunatic elf, right? From all I’ve read, I doubt the girls will even remember this Christmas.”

  “But they’ll have pictures. Do you want them being the only kids at school who didn’t meet with Santa?”

  “News flash—” he opened the gate to the pony corral “—they’ve got a while till kindergarten.”

  “Just hush.”

  Since the lot was nearly empty, Coal’s wrangler gave the twins an extralong ride. While Mason walked alongside the pony, holding both girls in the same saddle, Hattie took pictures with her phone, trying not to think how lucky Vanessa and Vivian were to be held by such a handsome guy.

  A few minutes in, the pony snorted. Vivian got spooked and launched into an instant wail.

  “That’s it.” Mason plucked both girls from the saddle. “Ride’s over. Let’s grab the tree before snow sets in.”

  “Nope,” she said. “Santa’s next.”

  While the quintessential Kris Kringle jiggled the now-smiley twins, Hattie snapped more shots. “Aren’t they the cutest things you’ve ever seen?”

  “Ho, ho, ho,” Santa said. “I’ll bet you two want some pretty new rattles for Christmas.” His boisterous laugh terrified Vanessa.

  Mason was first to snatch Vanessa and Vivian back into his arms. “Now that both babies have been thoroughly traumatized, can we get on with this?”

  “What’s up with you?” she asked out of earshot of Mrs. Claus, who’d handed them all candy canes.

  “This just isn’t my thing, okay?”

  “What do you mean?” She took Vanessa from him.

  “The over-the-top holiday scene.”

  “I never knew you didn’t like Christmas.” She glanced his way to find his profile darker than the approaching storm clouds.

  “I don’t have anything personal against it.” He stepped over an extension cord, then extended his hand to steady her. “But Mom died the week before, so ever since, that memory overrides anything else.”

  “Please don’t think I’m being flippant, but have you ever thought about making new memories? You spent lots of holidays with us and seemed happy enough.”

  He snorted. “That’s because Melissa was always nagging me to smile.”

  “I’m sorry.” And she really was. All too clearly she recalled the sad little boy he’d long ago been. It hurt her that he still missed his mom. It also made her all the more determined to help heal her own mother’s emotional pain.

  After interlocking her fingers with his, she squeezed.

  “See any of these you like?” They’d reached the portion of the lot where precut trees stood in neat rows.

  “Nice stab at changing the subject.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him. “What if this Christmas you remember the happy times with your mom? Even better, what if I make this holiday so perfect you can’t wait to have dozens more just like it?”

  Groaning, he drew her into a hug. “You’re too good to be true. I don’t deserve you.”

  “No, you don’t,” she teased, “but for now, anyway, I’m here and you’re here and the most adorable baby angels are here. What if we make believe we’re a real family?”

  “That what you want to do?”

  She swallowed hard. Hattie didn’t know what she wanted beyond being with this man, which went against everything she knew to be true. If he played along with her silly game, it’d be just that—a game. After New Year’s, he’d be gone, just like the season. But it wouldn’t even be like a legitimate breakup because how could she claim a man who’d never really been hers, but her sister’s?

  Making matters worse, as was usually the case in their small town, their hug had been witnessed. Her opinionated regular from the bar, Rufus, had apparently secured seasonal work at the farm and stood a few yards away, trimming a tree bottom—and wagging his finger in her direction.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Back from the tree farm, Mason unearthed Melissa’s tree stand from the downstairs storage area, hauled it upstairs, then crammed the odd little tree they’d purchased into it. “Want me to pile a few books under it so it looks taller?”

  Hattie held Vanessa on her hip while appraising the partially bald tree. “It seemed bigger outside.”

  She’d gotten her dates mixed up and missed the farm’s famed opening weekend. It was then, the salesman had explained, that the best trees were sold. All of the majestic ones Hattie had set her heart upon regally standing in the cathedral-like living room had already been sold. The tree they’d bought was cute—if a little lopsided—but barely stood five feet tall.

  Vivian honked the horn on her new walker toy.

  Mason chuckled. “Viv seems to like it, so it can’t be all that bad.”

  “Yeah, but I wanted a perfect tree. You know how Melissa always wanted even her old bedroom to look like it was out of a magazine. How could I have gotten the tree farm’s opening dates so wrong?”

  “Gee, could it be you lost your sister, your mom and dad dived off the deep end, you broke your arm and suddenly are the primary caregiver to not one baby, but two?”

  She sat on the sofa arm. “When you put it that way, guess I have had a lot on my mind.”

  “You think?” He went to her, enfolding her in his arms. “Tell you what, tomorrow morning, if you still find this tree lacking, let’s go out and cut our own.”

  “Really?”

  “Have you looked outside? This land is covered in Christmas trees. How hard can it be to chop one down?”

  * * *

  HATTIE WOKE SPOONED alongside Mason the next morning. Though the clock read 6:00 a.m., it was still dark and would be for a while. He’d molded his fingers to the curve of her stomach. She placed her hand over his, toying with the fine hair on his knuckles.

  “You’re up too early,” he said with a sexy growl, burrowing beneath her hair to kiss her neck. “If we’re lucky, the munchkins will snooze for at least another thirty minutes.”

  “I’m up because I’m excited.”

  “Yeah? Me, too....” His claim was confirmed by the size of his erection. “What are we going to do about all this excitement?”

  “I thought we were headed into the woods to find a giant Christmas tree?”

  He rolled her over for a long, leisurely kiss that tugged an invisible string of arousal. “Wouldn’t you rather stay in bed?”

  She giggled when he nibbled her ear. “I suppose we could, but then what are we going to do about getting a bigger tree?”

  “Oh—something’s getting bigger as we speak.”

  “You’re awful!”

  “You’re delicious,” he said after another heated kiss. “Let’s get this show on the road before our two monkeys start rattling around in their cages.”

  Hours later, once the sun finally rose on twelve inches of freshly fallen snow, they bundled the girls for their trek out onto the twenty acres of forest on which the house sat.

  “You do know this is crazy, right?” The sight of him took her breath away. The way cold turned his cheeks ruddy and his winter coat accentuated his size. Even when she’d been little, he’d made her feel safe—like anything was possible.

  “This coming from the guy who took all the desks from the school to spell out your class year on the football field?”

  “Child’s play.” He took one step outside of the circle drive the local plowing service had cleared and stood in snow up to his thighs. “Got any ideas on how to carry the chain saw and two babies through this?”

  “You’re the SEAL.”

  �
�Really? Is that how this is going to be?” The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled made her want him all over again.

  “You started it. Just be glad I can’t hold Vanessa and make a snowball at the same time, or you’d be pummeled.”

  “Like this?” Before she could even form a plan for making a one-armed snowball, he’d already succeeded, lobbing it straight at her head.

  “Beast!” The shocking cold of snow against every inch of her face had her laughing, but seeking revenge. A chase ensued. “I hate you!”

  “No, you don’t,” he teased, always an infuriating few steps ahead.

  When he finally slowed enough for her to nail his bare neck with a handful of lightly packed snow, he growled upon impact, landing her and Vanessa in a playful tackle against mounded snow.

  Breathing heavy and smiling, she said, “You’re horrible, attacking poor defenseless girls like that.”

  “Aw, I’m not so bad.” The sizzling heat of his slow, sexy grin did crazy, happy things to her chest. Sheer anticipation of wanting his kiss made it impossible to breathe. Consulting Vivian, he asked, “You think I’m fun, don’t you?”

  The infant gave him a toothless grin.

  “See? All the ladies love me.” He leaned in close enough for his warm breath to tickle Hattie’s upper lip.

  Yes, Mason, you would be so easy to love.

  In an attempt to steer the conversation away from her heart, she asked, “How is any of this helping me get a bigger Christmas tree?”

  He laughed, then kissed her. “As seems to be a trend when I’m around you, something’s getting bigger.”

  “You’re horrible!” And so ridiculously sexy she could happily occupy this spot for hours.

  “Admit it, you can’t get enough of me....” He kissed her again and again, and as much as she wanted to deny him, she lacked the strength. Like a chip or cookie, when it came to his kisses she had to have one more.

  “Okay, yes, I’m hopelessly addicted to you, so will you now get my tree?”

  “Have you always been this demanding?”

  She raised her chin and smiled. “Yes. So kiss me one last time and then get moving. Since the snow’s deeper than we thought, the girls and I will stay here.”

  “Deal.”

  Only after Hattie and the girls waved Mason on his way, she found herself craving still more...

  * * *

  MASON COULDN’T HAVE said why, but his mission to find Hattie her quintessential Christmas tree had taken on an absurd sense of urgency. Above all else, he wanted to see her smile—better yet, be the one responsible for producing that smile.

  He trudged at least a half mile through thigh-deep snow before discovering a twelve-footer that even Hattie would be hard-pressed to deny was impressive. Not too wide and perfectly symmetrical, it was a true beauty—just like the woman he’d be bringing it home for.

  While priming the finicky chain saw, it occurred to Mason that over the past few weeks—especially since sleeping in a real bed next to Hattie—Melissa and Alec’s house had started feeling more like a home. But what did that mean? Was it the actual house he felt comfortable with, or the occupants? All it took was remembering that morning’s kisses and the twins’ adorably goofy grins to tell him without a doubt, the ladies of the house had placed a spell over him.

  Weeks earlier, he’d found himself living for the navy. It spooked him how suddenly new commitments had taken precedence.

  But was he honestly committed to Hattie and the twins? Or had he succumbed to the privileges of playing house with benefits?

  Frustrated with this train of thought, he used a collapsible shovel he’d stashed in a backpack to dig out around the tree’s base—no easy feat as beneath the snow, it’d been broader than he’d anticipated.

  No worries, though. He’d told Hattie he’d bring her a tree and by God, that was what he’d do.

  His next course of action was to start the small chain saw he’d also hauled along. He yanked repeatedly at the saw’s pull start, only nothing happened. Even as a kid he’d had a hatred for two-cycle engines. Apparently, they hated him back.

  He tugged and tugged, primed and primed, until finally giving up and opting for an old scout hatchet he’d brought for backup.

  With the sky darkening and the temperature dropping, he figured he’d better put his back into it or he’d be there all night.

  When he’d been a full-time Alaskan, he’d been a fisherman—not a woodsman—so his ax man skills left a lot to be desired. He knew enough to make a V in the trunk, but best as he could remember, the placement of that V was critical as to which direction the tree would fall.

  Hoping for the best, Mason made a judgment call when giving the larger-than-expected tree a final shove. Wood cracked, and with a mighty whoosh the tree was down.

  Now he just had to drag it home...

  * * *

  TWO HOURS PASSED. When Mason still hadn’t returned to the house, worry set in. The man was a navy SEAL. No doubt he could single-handedly take down a grizzly, then roast him for dinner, but Alaska was loaded with manly men and sadly, they died all the time.

  Though Hattie’s more rational side knew he was most likely fine, the part of her still shocked by the sudden loss of her sister and brother-in-law warned her not to take chances. After all of their horseplay, it’d been noon before he’d set off. This time of year, especially with cloud cover, they had barely two hours of daylight left—if that.

  Pacing the kitchen, she dialed her parents’ number, praying at least her father would recognize the potential urgency of the situation. “Dad, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said once he picked up, “but I need your help. I’m afraid Mason may be in trouble.”

  “Be right there” was all he said before hanging up.

  Snow was really coming down, along with the temperature, so Hattie popped the girls in their playpen, then took their monitor outside.

  “Mason!” Falling snow combined with wind in the pines deadened the sound of her voice. “Mason, can you hear me?”

  No response.

  If something had happened to him all because she’d sent him out to look for a stupid Christmas tree, she’d never forgive herself.

  Shivering with no coat, she dashed back inside.

  Kneeling alongside the playpen, willing her pulse to slow, she said to the girls, “Right about now I’m wishing you guys were old enough to talk to. Better yet, that you were old enough to talk some sense into me about not needing everything to be perfect—especially not decorations.”

  When Melissa had been alive, she’d gladly assumed the role of family Martha Stewart, but that had never been Hattie’s thing. Why now did she feel compelled to try to re-create things the way Melissa had done them? Could it be linked to her insecurities about Mason? How she still didn’t completely believe he was as into her as she was him?

  The doorbell rang, and Hattie rushed to answer.

  Her dad was an avid backcountry snowshoer. Many times they’d gone together, and he carried her snowshoes with him.

  “Thank you so much for coming.” She crushed him in a hug.

  “We’ll find him. His tracks should be easy enough to follow.”

  “But I can’t leave the babies.”

  “I’ll watch them.” Her mom’s movements were sluggish, her expression grim, but she was really there, holding out her arms for a hug.

  Hattie asked, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine. We’ll talk later, but for now, you two go on and bring Mason safely home.”

  Her dad was right in that, even with worsening weather, Mason’s trail was clear. Seeing how deeply he’d sunk into the snow made her nauseous. Why had she insisted he do it?

  The deeper into the forest they trekked, t
he harder snow fell and the darker the skies grew.

  Hattie’s chest tightened to the point she feared having some sort of attack. “Mason!”

  “Maaason!” her father echoed. To her he asked, “How’re you doing with your bum arm?”

  “I’m fine. It’s Mason I’m worried about.”

  “We’ll find him. I told your mom that if we’re not back in an hour, she should call for backup.”

  A few more steps later, Hattie was almost afraid to ask, “How’d you get Mom to come?”

  “I didn’t. She’s got herself down to taking those tranquilizers only at night. She wanted to be here.”

  “Th-that’s great,” Hattie said. Her teeth started to chatter, only not from cold, but concern for Mason. Another new item on her list of issues was that if her mom was doing better, why hadn’t she called? Was she still upset over the will?

  “Mason!” her dad called.

  “Lyle?” answered a voice from out of the dark. Then came an odd swishing sound.

  “Mason! Thank God.” When he came into view, tears fell fast and hard. As best she could in her awkward snowshoes, Hattie went to him, tossing her arms around his neck, kissing him full on his lips, not caring who saw. “I’ve been so scared something happened. What took you so long?”

  After returning her kiss, he drew her attention to a hulking form behind him. “What do you think took so long? Your tree. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a monster.”

  Lyle asked, “Why’d you pick one so big?”

  Mason laughed. “Your daughter wanted one this size. I was afraid if I brought anything smaller, she wouldn’t let me in the house. The only thing keeping me going was my fantasy of returning to a steaming spiked coffee.”

  Now quaking with gratitude for Mason being all right, Hattie shook her head. “You stupid, silly man. I would have promised you a lifetime supply of spiked coffee if you’d come home an hour ago.”

  “I’d have taken you up on that,” he said with a sexy wink barely visible from the light of her dad’s head lamp, “but I didn’t dare come home without this tree.”

  * * *

  “YOU’RE SAFE.” Mason was shocked when Akna opened the front door for him, then made the sign of the cross on her chest.